


Unusual Family Dynamics

by cazmalfoy



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Child Neglect, Eventual Owen/Ianto, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6582259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight-year-old Owen Harper meets an usual man who immediately changes his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Out of all of my old stories, this has got to be one of my favourites. I absolutely love this story, even though I could do so much with this storyline now, as a more experienced writer.
> 
> *** WARNING ***
> 
> This alludes to child neglect.

The night air was cold and a harsh wind lapped around the playground but the thin figure on the bench barely felt the cold. He was used to the way Mother Nature’s cruel fingers tugged his hair and scratched at his skin. He spent every night sitting on the same park bench, through any kind of weather so he wasn’t fazed by the chill or the darkness as the sun had long-since set, turning the sky an inky black.

There was a scuffling noise in the bushes behind him and he had to bite down a startled yelp when the bushes parted and a man fell out. Owen watched as the man rolled across the ground for a moment before jumping to his feet.

"Come on…" the man panted, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. Owen opened his mouth to speak, but closed it abruptly when he realised the man wasn’t talking to him; he was talking to the bush he had fallen from. "I just wanna talk. Maybe go for dinner, grab a late show…"

With that he jumped back into the bush and began wrestling around with something Owen couldn’t see. Ten minutes later, when his curiosity was beginning to get the better of him and he was tempted to look into the bush to check on the man, said man emerged holding something that resembled a water pistol and a large pink cucumber.

Owen stared in horror when he saw the cucumber grow fingers, which began to slowly curl around the man’s wrist. Luckily he noticed this too and threw it back into the shrubbery with a yelp.

He pressed the blue glowing thing in his ear before he began to speak. "Simon, we’ll need a clean up crew here. Our friend didn’t like my invitation…" He laughed and rolled his eyes. "Very funny. I’ll have you know I’m an excellent host." The tall man pressed the blue thing once more and fell silent.

The small child sitting on the bench remained perfectly still, watching the man brush dirt from his long dark blue coat. Almost as if he could feel someone’s eyes on him the man looked up mid-movement and spotted Owen.

"How long have you been there?" he demanded, giving up on cleaning himself.

Owen shrugged his shoulders, remaining silent as he studied the man. His hair was different from how the other men had theirs; it wasn’t long at the back and short on top, instead it was short everywhere except a few strands which hung over his forehead. In the light of the playground Owen could tell he had blue eyes and they were currently looking at him in irritation.

"Well, get out of here!" he snapped, shooing Owen away with his hand. "You didn’t see anything."

The child didn’t move and the man took a step closer menacingly. "I said get out of here!" he growled, scaring Owen and making him jump up from his seat and running away from the park as fast as possible, just in time to avoid being run over by a large black van.

~

The office was a tiny space, not really big enough for two people. Yet the large man pacing the floor seemed oblivious to that fact. The man standing in front of him had his hands clasped behind his back, his feet were shoulder width apart and his head was held high, even though he was clearly been reprimanded.

"How you survived in the Air Force, I have no idea," the large man began. "You’re the most reckless person I’ve ever had on my team."

"The alien was neutralised," the brown haired man replied, his gaze firmly fixed on a spot in front of him. "I hardly think it’s still a threat."

"I was talking about the boy. Your behaviour with the alien is a completely different argument." The man stopped pacing and their eyes met. "He saw alien activity and protocol states that he should have his memory modified."

The blue eyed man’s gaze didn’t flinch. "He’s a small boy. He’ll just think he was dreaming and won’t think anything more of it."

His superior took a step closer so they were only a hairbreadth apart. "I think you misunderstand me, that was not a request. It’s an order. Out there," he pointed out of his office, "you may be the more senior agent, but in here you aren’t the Captain anymore… I am. That boy saw something he shouldn’t have and you will follow protocol and Retcon him. It is not open for discussion."

~

Owen had been sat on the same bench for the past three hours. Ever since his mother’s new lover had arrived and he had been pushed through the front door. He had been ordered not to return until after ten but he didn’t care; he was used to being treated like he didn’t exist.

Normally he would divide his time between the park on the corner of his street, or the park just outside the centre of the city. He had been in the latter of the two parks the previous night when he saw the strange man and the small child hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him and what had been attacking him in the bush.

The leaves behind him rustled and he quickly spun around, his dark eyes scanning the area nervously. He relaxed for a moment when he saw the stranger in his long coat, before he remembered the man’s attitude towards him the previous night.

"What are you doing back here, kid?" the man asked and Owen couldn’t help notice that his accent wasn’t like any one else’s he’d heard.

Owen hesitated before answering, "Waiting."

The man put his hands in his pockets and sat on the bench next to him. "For me?" Owen nodded his head and the man frowned. "Why would you be waiting for me?"

"That thing in the bush… Did it hurt you?" he whispered.

A laugh sounded from the dark haired man and he shook his head. "It takes more than wrestling to hurt me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of Jelly Babies.

Suddenly Owen’s stomach growled and he was feeling hungrier than he had all week. He had heard kids talk about Jelly Babies at school but the only time he had asked his mother for them, he had been laughed at and locked in the backyard for an hour for asking stupid questions.

"Do you want these?" the man asked, opening the packet and pulling out a sweet. He held the sweet between his finger and thumb, squeezing it for a moment before his blue eyes travelled to Owen. "Are you okay, kid?" he asked, lowering the sweet. "You look like you haven’t eaten all week."

Owen remained silent and the stranger’s eyes widened. "You haven’t, have you?"

"I… I had some cereal yesterday," Owen stammered nervously. "It’s okay."

All kind of thoughts seemed to be running through the man’s head as he studied Owen before putting the sweets away. "What’s your name?"

"Owen James Harper," he introduced himself proudly.

The man smiled and held his hand out to Owen. "Well, it’s nice to meet you, Owen James Harper. I’m Captain Jack Harkness. Do you want to go get something to eat? It’s my treat."

Owen nodded his head and followed Jack out of the park. At the kerb they paused as they waited for the lights to change and Owen tentatively slid his hand into Jack’s larger one, feeling safer crossing the street holding his hand.

Unseen to Owen, Jack dropped the Jelly Baby he was still holding to the floor and pressed the heel of his boot on top of it, crushing both it and the Retcon pill it contained.

~

Jack leant back in his chair and watched as Owen practically breathed in two hamburgers with fries and an extra large coke, shortly followed by a large ice-cream. They had remained silent since arriving at the restaurant; the only thing Jack had managed to get out of the boy was that he was eight years old and his mother had told him not to come home until after ten.

"What are you a Captain of?" Owen asked around a half-chewed French fry.

The question was so out-of-the-blue it made Jack start a little in surprise before he grinned widely. "I used to be in the RAF," he replied, taking a drink of his own water. At Owen’s confused look he tried to explain as best as he could. "I used to fly aeroplanes."

Owen’s eyes lit up and Jack could see the admiration in his face. "In the sky?" Jack nodded his head and laughed when Owen gasped in amazement. "Is it scary?"

Jack shook his head and dived straight into a story about flying over the sea, ducking away from enemy planes that were coming at him.

He and Owen spent the next few hours talking about planes and flying. It was fifteen minutes past ten when Jack walked Owen to his house. The small boy seemed reluctant to leave Jack, but the brown haired man couldn’t let him stay out any longer. He was already trying to figure out how to speak to Owen’s mother without telling her how he knew her son; he knew it wouldn’t look good.

"Are you coming back tomorrow?" Owen whispered, his dark eyes looking up and Jack nervously.

Jack hesitated, his bosses would go mad with him if they found out he was getting close to the child he was supposed to have Retconned. But something in the look Owen was giving him made Jack forget about his job and the responsibilities that came along with it. "Of course I am." He flashed him a grin, which earned him a smile in return.


	2. Chapter 2

Owen Harper looked from his homework to the large clock hanging above the café’s counter. It was half-past nine and the place would be closing soon. The waitress, Annie, gave him one last refill of cola before heading back behind the counter to do the final till count.

He flashed her a grin as he took a sip before turning back to his calculations. The staff members were used to him being there and actually reserved the table by the window especially for him. The teenager had been visiting the small eatery every evening for as long as any of them could remember and not seeing him was a very rare occurrence, and when he returned he discovered that they had missed his happy chatter and banter.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped violently before turning around. He glared at the tall man stood behind him. "Do you mind?" he snapped, wiping his homework where the cola had dripped. "If I’d ruined this, you’d have been redoing it for me."

Jack grinned widely and slid into the seat next to Owen, watching as he cleaned up. Annie made to bring Jack a drink but he shook his head, it was getting late and Owen had school the next day.

"You’re three hours late," Owen commented, not looking up as he slid the A4 pages into a ring binder. "Did some alien need catching?" Owen had once joked that Jack’s job was so secretive and unpredictable that he might as well be a rogue alien hunter; for some reason it had stuck.

The smile he received in response was tight and forced but Owen was too busy to notice. "Something like that. You been keeping out of trouble without me?"

Owen rolled his eyes. "What kind of trouble could a fifteen-year old get into doing his homework on a Wednesday night? In a local café of all places."

Jack covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide a yawn. "After the day I’ve had, nothing would surprise me," he whispered.

It was at that point that Owen  _really_  looked at Jack and noticed his face was covered in cuts and bruises. There was dried blood on his ear and he had a split lip. "What the hell happened?" the teenager gasped.

The older man shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, trying not to wince at the shooting pain that flew through his collarbone. "Just got into a bit of a scrape at work…" He watched as Owen ran over to the counter and after a whispered conversation with Annie, returned with a green first aid kid.

"It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine in the morning!" he protested when Owen flicked open the lid of the box and began pulling out various plasters and creams.

He hissed when Owen pressed cold cotton wool onto his forehead, not too gently. "Since when do you know how to do this?" he commented, his blue eyes watching as Owen applied anti-septic cream to the cut.

Owen shrugged his shoulders, avoiding answering the question as he turned Jack’s head to the side, enabling him to get a better look at the blood dripping from his ear. "You have a head injury," he commented, cleaning away the blood. "That’s what blood coming from an orifice means. You should get your head checked out properly."

Jack chuckled and leant back in his chair when the teenager announced he was finished. "You’ve been saying that to me for years."

"Yet you still haven’t listened to me."

~

His careers advisor was beginning to loose her patience, Owen could tell. Their appointment had been booked for eleven and it was now approaching half-past twelve. "Owen," Miss Julian spoke, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. "He’s almost two hours late. Are you sure he…"

"He’ll be here," Owen snapped, thrusting his hands in his pockets and stalking across the classroom to the window. "He just… works funny hours, that’s all," he sighed, leaning his head against the glass.

Miss Julian remained silent as she watched her student survey the car park below the window. She had known Owen for the whole of his teenage life and over that time she couldn’t help notice how he had gone from a withdrawn child to a confident young man. She would have to be a fool to not notice how his face lit up whenever he talked about Jack. She had read his file and knew that his mother had thrown him out onto the street when he was sixteen. Miss Julian also knew that Owen had been taken in by his Uncle Jack; although, listening to Owen describing their escapades, she had the feeling that he saw Jack as more of a father than the one who had run away to Ibiza with his mistress when Owen was five.

Suddenly Owen pushed away from the window and turned to face her, beaming from ear to ear. "He’s here," he announced, pointing to the black van sitting in the middle of the car park.

Several seconds later there was a hesitant knock on the door and the heavy wood was pushed open a little. When Jack saw Owen standing by the window grinning, he smiled himself and stepped fully into the room. Owen couldn’t help his jaw drop when he saw what Jack was wearing. He had grown up used to the other man’s period military outfits and when he saw him in something different it always blew his mind.

His usual long military coat had been replaced by a shorter, closer cut black suit jacket. Owen could see a black T-shirt poking out of the open collar of his light-blue striped shirt, which for some reason made his eyes seem to glow brightly. The thing that was blowing his mind, however wasn’t the change of attire, it was the fact that said blue eyes were currently hidden behind thin-wire-rimmed glasses.

Miss Julian seemed to be as mesmerised by Jack’s appearance as Owen was, although he sincerely hoped it was for different reasons. She coughed nervously and straightened her skirt as she stood, offering her hand to Jack. "Mr Harkness," she greeted and Jack automatically corrected her, earning him a glare from Owen. "I’m sorry, Captain," she blushed bashfully and straightened several papers on the desk in front of her as she regained her composure.

"Sorry, I’m late," Jack apologised, sliding into a chair on the other side of the desk, Owen sitting next to him. "Work can be demanding sometimes."

Miss Julian chuckled like a young schoolgirl and Owen had to fight to repress the urge to roll his eyes and scoff. With the exception of Annie, every female Jack was introduced to, was quickly reduced to a pile of giggling mess.

He cleared his throat, reminding them both that they were supposed to be discussing Owen’s future and coming up with some kind of plan that would make him a lot of money.

~

Two hours later, they had pretty much decided that since Owen was exceptionally good at biology, it would be best for him to continue this through to A-Level and then maybe consider medical school, or something in medical research.

On the way down to the car, Jack had promised to take Owen out for meal since he had been so late arriving.

"Are you going to explain why you’re not wearing what you usually wear, or am I just supposed to guess?" Owen asked, pulling open the passenger door and slid into the seat.

Jack rolled his eyes and put his foot down, screeching out of the car park as soon as Owen’s seatbelt was fastened. "Period Military isn’t exactly every day attire for most people, is it? I didn’t want people to think you had some crazy uncle who thought it was still the 1940’s."

"Even if they’d be right about the crazy part?" He scowled at Jack when the other man reached over and swatted him on the arm. "Seriously, where did the glasses come from? I’ve never seen you in them before."

The blue-eyed man chuckled and shook his head. "Because I hate wearing them," he frowned. "Trust me, kid, when you get to my age, you’ll need glasses as well."

Owen scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Your age? What, thirty?"

Jack put his hand on Owen shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "You’re too kind. Far too kind."

~

The sunlight coming in from the window was hurting his eyes, hurting them so bad they were actually watering from the pain. He had no idea what time it was, but he did know that he had a hangover which he wasn’t sure could be classed as entirely his fault.

He and his schoolmates had got their A-Level results back the previous day, and upon finding out they had passed their classes and achieved the grades they needed to get into the universities of their choice. They had then proceeded to get completely smashed in celebration.

It must have been after mid-day, Owen surmised stooping down to pick up the post from where it was lying on the floor by the door. Their postman was probably one of the least efficient members of the Royal Mail and very rarely made his appearance before one.

The majority of the mail was junk mail; Owen had never seen a bill in the entire two years he had been living in Jack’s apartment. The other man had told him that there was a system set up and all the bills were paid on time always, so he didn’t need to worry about it. And he hadn’t done. As with many things Jack told him, Owen trusted the other man to know what was best for him and didn’t question it.

To his surprise there was a letter from the Medical University he had applied for. He had only received his acceptance a few days earlier, along with a form to complete if he required financial help with the school. The feelings of happiness that still lingered from the previous night, dissipated fast when he remembered there was no way someone like him could afford Medical School.

With trembling fingers he tore the envelope open and pulled out a crisp white sheet of A4 paper with the school’s emblem on the top.

_Dear Mr Harper,_

_Please accept this letter as confirmation of receipt of your tuition payment. All school fees have been covered, including any additional transportation, living and learning costs._

_If you have any additional questions, please contact us on the number above. We look forward to seeing you at the beginning of term._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Amelia Burnell_

_Senior Administration Supervisor_

Owen stared down in disbelief at the paper in his hands. Confirming payment? He hadn’t paid anything. Had he? He shook his head; of course he hadn’t, there was no way he had that kind of money lying around. Unless…

He ran through the apartment, pushing Jack’s bedroom door open and pausing in horror in the doorway. The bedroom had been filled with all kinds of things, things Owen had no idea what to make of, but they had been every bit as unique as Jack was. Now it was completely empty, the only things remaining were a dresser, wardrobe and a now naked bed.

Sitting down heavily on the bed he reached out and grabbed the piece of pink paper lying on the centre of the mattress. He rolled his eyes at the other man’s choice of stationary before he unfolded the letter and tried his best to read Jack’s untidy scrawl.

_O,_

_By now you’ve probably realised that my bedroom is empty. I know I promised that I’d take care of you and I still intend to keep my promise. I’ve been looking out for you since you were eight years old, I’m not going to stop taking care of you. Ever._

_You probably don’t remember the night we met –_

Owen snorted with laughter, of course he remembered the night they met; it had been the night his life had started getting a thousand times better. Before then his mother had never paid him any attention, and while she never cared for him after that, he didn’t care; he had Jack to talk to. He was just glad she never taught him not to speak to strangers.

_\- but I knew in that moment that my heart belonged to you. And before you start retching and getting really _creeped out, I don’t mean it_ that  _way.__

_I know we never talked properly about my job, but you know it’s something important I’m not allowed to talk about. That secrecy isn’t always a good thing, before I met you I had forgotten what it was like to really be human. To feel compassion for someone and feel the unexplainable urge to protect them from everything._

_You’ve been keeping me grounded to the real world, whether you realised it or not. And I’ve been protecting you from the bad things that are out there in the world. I realise in retrospect that probably isn’t the best way to deal with a teenager. You need to learn to fly on your own._

_Something has come up with work, something bad and I’ve to go away for a while. I don’t know how long I’ll be, or even where I’m going. Have I mentioned what I do for a living is complicated?_

Owen half-sobbed, half-laughed as he read the words on the paper. The sob became more prominent when he realised how much he was going to miss Jack. When his mother had decided she didn’t feel like having him around the house anymore and kicked him out, Jack had been the only person he felt like he could turn to. The older man hadn’t even hesitated before he took him back to his apartment and converted the spare room into Owen’s own room.

_The apartment is yours. Well, it’s technically still in my name, but you’ve pretty much had to yourself for two years anyway, since I’m hardly ever there. It’s fully paid for, there’s no mortgage or rent to worry about. All the bills still come directly out of my bank account, I'm not going to change that or cancel the payments. Oh yeah, you should be getting a confirmation letter from Med School soon; I’ve already paid for everything, so don’t you dare go making any drastic career changes! There’s a bankcard in your wallet. I’ll have money transferred in every month for food and things; time you learned how to be responsible!_

_I’m sorry to leave you like this, kid, but I’m not great at good-byes; never have been. Besides, this isn’t good-bye, its ‘see you soon’, because you just know I’ll be back. People have been trying to get rid of me for years and no one’s managed to do it so far. What makes you think you’re so special?_

_Take care of yourself, Owen. I’ll still be watching out for you, even though you can’t see me, I’ll always be there._

_See you soon,_

_J xx_


	3. Chapter 3

Break-ups were never easy, especially not when the person you were trying to break up with was one of your best friends. Owen had taken Julie out to dinner and a movie, hoping the distraction of the film would give them an excuse not to talk to each other. Of course, he hadn’t counted on the restaurant being silent and talk encouraging.

He had tried to be diplomatic about breaking up with her. Tried to tell her that he was only twenty-three and he wasn’t ready for a full on commitment. Julie had laughed his reasons off with a wave of her hand and told him to stop being silly. He hadn’t meant for the angry words to fall out of his mouth but it seemed that once they had started, they wouldn’t stop pouring past his lips.

Julie had jumped up mid-argument and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving Owen staring after her in part-amazement, part-annoyance.

Owen paid for their food and slowly made his way out of the eatery, heading back home. It was a cold night but his adrenaline was still pumping, making his body feel like it was on fire. In his pocket, he felt his mobile phone vibrate and he groaned, just knowing that the message was from Julie, calling him every variation of ‘bastard’ she could think of.

Instead when he opened the message, he laughed when he saw it read,  _‘Very suave. J xx’._

Selecting the reply function he quickly typed,  _‘Stop stalking me. It’s creepy! O’,_ before hitting the send button.

Shaking his head he slid the phone back into his pocket and continued walking. Since Jack had disappeared five years ago, Owen hadn’t seen the man who had helped him through his teenage years. He received phone calls on his birthday, Christmas and other holidays, and Jack would send him the occasional text message, just to remind Owen that the other man was keeping his promise and looking out for him. Even now.

 

He had no idea how the other man always managed to know exactly where he was and what he was doing, but he had to admit, knowing Jack was watching him made him feel a lot safer than he would do otherwise.

Owen flicked the lights on as he made his way through the apartment, kicking his trainers under the coffee table and throwing his jacket over the back of an armchair. It was past midnight and there was nothing on the television except crappy made for TV films and documentaries on the life cycle of fleas, or something equally uninteresting.

The sight of a bright green book lying on the table made his groan and run his hands through his hair in frustration. He had completely forgot he had his final exam that afternoon. Reaching forward, he grabbed the book and flicked to the page he had bookmarked earlier in the day.

He tried with all his might to focus on the words his brown eyes were skimming, but the information wasn’t settling in his brain, no matter how much he willed himself to pay attention.

With a growl he threw the book onto the table once more and got to his feet, turning the television off as he began securing the apartment for the night.

~

They day after they got their exam results Owen and his best friend Michael were planning on taking his beat up car into the city, looking for something entertaining to do before going out on the town and getting drunk.

Owen unlocked the garage and with a groan, managed to pull up the rusty door. They both got a surprise when they saw that instead of his beat-up Ford, they found a shiny new Porsche Boxster, with a red ribbon sitting on the bonnet.

"Have you opened the wrong garage?" Michael asked in confusion as they stepped closer to the car.

The young doctor remained silent as he reached out and withdrew a small gift card from where it had been slotted under the ribbon.

_‘Congratulations, Doctor Harper. J xx’_

Michael tapped his friend on the shoulder, getting his attention once more. "What’s that?" he nodded to the small rectangular card in Owen’s hand. "Does it say who it’s from?" Owen nodded his head and Michael pushed him for more information.

"It’s from my…" he paused for a moment; his gaze travelling between the card, car and then back again. "It’s from my dad," he grinned widely.

~

Packing up his belongings was easier said than done. He had only been living in the apartment since he had turned sixteen and he was amazed at how much crap he had managed to accumulate since then.

He glared at his mobile phone when it began ringing just as he was about to put his stereo into it’s box – a box he had found stuffed underneath Jack’s old bed.

"What?" he snapped, answering the call and trying desperately not to drop the radio.

One the other end of the line he heard a familiar chuckle and he couldn’t help smile as well. "Oi, didn’t I teach you to respect your elders?"

Owen rolled his eyes and propped the phone against his ear with his shoulder. "I didn’t know you counted."

Jack clucked his tongue disapprovingly and in the background, Owen could hear a young woman talking, although the words were indecipherable. Jack quickly murmured a reply before returning back to his conversation with Owen. The young man had long since given up trying to get information out of Jack about where he had disappeared to, so he didn’t bother trying to find out what was going on.

"How’s packing going?" Jack asked over the rustling of paper as he presumably flicked through a book or something similar.

He ran a hand through his hair and glanced around the room, which was mostly filled with cardboard boxes. "Almost done… Just got a few more CD’s and books to put away. Is the van still coming at ten tomorrow?"

Jack confirmed that the removal van would indeed be arriving the next morning and they lapsed into silence for a moment before Owen spoke softly. "What if I suck at being a doctor?"

A sympathetic sigh sounded on the other end of the line. "You’ll be fine," he assured him confidently. "You’re the one of the brightest in your class, aren’t you?" Owen made a noise that could pass for confirmation. "How often have you patched me up in the past?"

"Okay, point taken," he murmured as he taped the box shut.

He surveyed the room and decided that it was time to pack away the clothes that were still hanging in the wardrobe. Owen was about to say something to Jack when the other man cut him off urgently.

"Sorry, kid… Got an emergency here. Gotta go." Owen sighed and lowered his head, it had been so long since he and Jack had spoke and he had wanted to spend as long as possible catching up with him. "Get some sleep tonight, you’ve got a long journey tomorrow. I’ll call you tomorrow night, okay? Be careful."

~

Owen’s friends had never been able to get their heads around how lucky they thought he was. He lived alone in a fantastic apartment he didn’t have to pay for; he didn’t have to worry about his tuition payments. When word had spread about Owen’s new car that suddenly became topic of conversation amongst the small group of medical students.

None of them seemed to understand that he would be more than happy having to work two jobs and drive his banger, if he didn’t have to live alone. Having to deal with random text messages and phone calls from a man whom he considered his father.

Jack had offered to pay for Owen’s new apartment, but the brown-eyed man had point blank refused. The older man had been paying Owen’s way for too long; it was time for him to invest in something with his own money.

He had three days before he started his new job in the Cardiff Accident & Emergency department. He was starting on one of the lowest levels a doctor could start at, but he didn’t care. The A&E was his opportunity to put everything he had learnt to practice. Jack had been right when he had said he was good at patching up potentially fatal wounds.

The mobile phone vibrated from where it sat on the breakfast bar, the noise sounding louder as the phone moved against the hard wood underneath it. Getting to his feet, Owen groaned. He hated travelling at the best of times and the thought of going from London to South Wales had almost convinced him not to accept his new job.

He breath caught in his chest as he grabbed the phone and opened the text message.  _‘Be at the Millennium Centre at 6pm. J xx’_


	4. Chapter 4

Even though it was only August the sun was already beginning to sink behind the buildings as Owen leant on the railing outside the Millennium Centre. It was almost 8:15 and he had been waiting for over half an hour. Several security guards had come over and asked him if he was lost, but he had waved them off, telling them that he was waiting for someone.

Someone who would probably be late for his own funeral, Owen thought to himself as he looked around for Jack once more.

Through the shadows he could see someone approaching him slowly. The doctor couldn’t make out any features from this distance, but the long great coat the other man was wearing, mixed with his stance, could only mean one person.

His grin almost split his face in two when Jack approached him, wearing a half-nervous smile on his face. "Hey, kid," he whispered, running a hand through his hair.

Owen laughed at that as he took a step toward Jack. "I’m not a kid anymore," he chided. Jack raised an eyebrow and Owen suddenly threw away all pretence of being an adult and flung his arms around the taller man.

Jack’s tense body relaxed immediately and he wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly until he heard Owen whisper something under his breath. "What?" Jack asked, pulling back with a frown on his face.

When he realised what he had said, Owen blushed and shook his head, looking away from Jack and trying to pretend he hadn’t spoken at all.

"Did…" Jack bit his lip nervously. "Did you call me what I think you did?"

Owen sighed and nodded his head, trying to take a step back from Jack. However, when the older man grabbed hold of his wrist and dragged him closer once more, this proved more than slightly difficult.

"I…" Jack hugged him tightly, burying his face in Owen’s hair and breathing in the scent which made him so uniquely  _Owen_. "I don’t mind," he whispered. "Actually…" he gave Owen one of his oh-so-charming grins. "I could get used to it."

Brown eyes looked into his own blue ones inquisitively. "Really?" he breathed, laughing with relief when Jack nodded his head. "Thanks… Dad."

They stood there, in front of the stadium, holding each other close for what felt like an eternity before Jack lowered his arms and took a step back, allowing them both breathing space. "So…" he rubbed his hands together, the mischievous sparkle back in his previously watery blue eyes, "what do you say we get something to eat and you can tell me how much bail money I owe various law enforcement officers?"

Owen shook his head, falling in step next to Jack as they made their way down the street to the local restaurants. "You’re the one who usually needs bailing out," he muttered under his breath as they crossed the street.

When they walked under a bright street light, Owen looked up at Jack’s face and frowned. "Why do you not look older?" he asked conversationally.

"Plastic surgery," Jack answered, not missing a beat. "Don’t laugh," he scowled when Owen did just that. "You’d be surprised at what a guy’ll do to stay looking this pretty forever."

~

The long-low beep of the life support machine was making his ears ring; it was the only sound in an otherwise silent room and only served as another reminder of what a failure he was.

"Turn that off!" he snapped making some poor staff nurse jump out of her skin before she hurried to comply with his demand.

When the machine was unplugged, the silence of the room felt heavier and Owen felt like he was being suffocated by some kind of invisible plastic sheet. "Time of death: 23:55," he said into the machine that had been recording the operation.

His blood stained latex gloves fell to the instrument tray with wet sloshing noises, knocking several instruments to the floor with a clatter.

The younger nurses watched as Doctor Harper turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving them to clean up the blood and sew the cadaver back up.

When he reached the nurses station, he signed out and didn’t stop walking until he reached the ocean and realised he couldn’t go any further without drowning. Although at the moment, that was looking like a better option every minute.

The metal of the railing was cold under his hands as his fingers curled around the bar, trying to find something to hold onto, something to stop himself from falling into the blackness that threatened to engulf him.

"She died," he whispered to the figure he could sense approaching him from behind. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; for some reason he could practically sense a change in atmosphere whenever Jack was around. "I had one job. Remove the implant and I couldn’t even do that right."

"What happened?" Jack asked, his voice barely louder than Owen’s as he climbed up on the railings and swung his legs over the other side so he was looking out to sea.

"Alexia Twining, 24," Owen choked trying to hold back a sob as he remembered. He had always tried to not find out his patient’s names, in the hopes it would make it easier to deal with if he lost one; it never did.

"She was in a car accident; nothing too major, except she took a blow to her chest. Normally she would have suffered a cracked breastplate at the worst. If she hadn’t have had breast implants two years ago."

Jack lifted an arm and wrapped it around Owen’s shoulders, gripping his arm in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

"One of the implants ruptured, filling her chest cavity. I tried to remove the silicone but there was just too much… so close to her heart. She went into shock. I tried to stop the bleeding but…" He shook his head, fighting back the tears of anger and loss that were threatening to spill over.

"There was nothing you could do," Jack whispered, running his fingers through the hair at the back of Owen’s head.

Dealing with living patients was becoming more and more difficult for the young doctor. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he felt things very deeply and the knowledge that he couldn’t save everyone who fell into the A&E, cut him deeply.

Jack knew that he had put a request in to be transferred to the Morgue, where the bodies were already dead so there was no risk of losing someone. But the chief Medical Officer had informed him that, while they would appreciate his skills, they had no vacancies at the moment and he should try again in six months.

Looking at the young man he thought of as a son, Jack made up his mind. He had been trying to find the right moment to offer Owen a once in a lifetime chance and, seeing the dejected look in his eyes, he knew it was as good a time as ever.

"Come on," he instructed, swinging his legs back around and jumping down from the railing. Jack was halfway towards the large water statue before Owen had even realised he had moved.

"Where are you going?" he shouted at Jack’s retreating back. When Jack didn’t answer, Owen ran after him, almost running into him when he stopped suddenly. "What’s going on?"

Jack smirked and pushed his sleeve back, revealing a large brown watch-like thing on his left wrist. He flicked it open and pressed several buttons.

Owen wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but the ground below them seemed to move and he couldn’t help the startled cry that escaped. "Owen Harper, I’m going to show you something amazing."


	5. Chapter 5

"Owen Harper, I’m going to show you something amazing."

Who knew there was something so large hiding underneath the streets of Cardiff? The large water tower extended down underground, coming to a stop in a large puddle of water, which was reflecting light across the surrounding area.

"Jack, what is this place?" Owen whispered as the pavement slab they were on came to a stop at the bottom.

The older man beamed and jumped down, holding his hand up to help Owen down. "This is Torchwood," he stated, waving a hand around him. "It’s fantastic, isn’t it?"

Owen blinked and looked around, trying to figure out what was so fantastic about an underground base. It was impressive, sure, but not what he would call amazing. "Erm… yeah… right, and Torchwood is what, exactly?"

"Torchwood is the Earth’s best defence against alien’s that want to take all you human’s hostage," Jack told him, walking down some stairs, around the large water pool in the middle and then up some more stairs.

"Like men in black?" Owen questioned, quickly following him, careful to not step in the water himself.

Jack tossed his head back and laughed as he unlocked a door. "Nothing like men in black… Although, I do think one of them was pretty hot… The black guy, can’t think of his name…" He shook his head, finally achieving his task and pushing the door open. "Oh, well, you know which one I mean."

"You want the sales pitch?" Jack crossed the room, wrenching open a drink’s cabinet and pulling two glasses out. " ‘We track down the aliens and arm the human race against the future. You gotta be ready, ‘cause the twenty first century is when everything changes’."

He rolled his eyes a little as he poured two fingers of scotch into both glasses. "It needs work but you get the general idea."

Owen accepted his glass and sat down heavy in the chair opposite Jack. "So all this time of you being a ‘rogue alien hunter’…"

"Hey, you came up with that one on your own. I just didn’t tell you that you were wrong." Jack grimaced as the strong liquid stung the back of his throat. "Come on, kid. All the times I showed up beaten and bloodied… All those times you patched me up, and you never once thought there was something strange going on? Do you not remember what I was doing the night we met?"

"The bush…"

Jack shook his head, finishing off his drink and getting to his feet. "That was an alien disguised as a bush. It had been stalking the park, looking for people to eat. It’s official name is ‘Ocalioantrs…’" He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, can’t you just accept it was an extraterrestrial?"

"ET?"

He laughed and lead Owen out of the office. "Pretty much. Just don’t say that to their faces – any of them; they get a bit touchy about stuff like that. Something about the misrepresentation of alien’s in popular culture."

Owen stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at Jack. "Where did you go? All these years, you never said. Never gave me a clue about where you were."

Jack sat them both down on a tatty couch behind a workstation. "When we met I was working for Torchwood London. I was supposed to give you something called ‘Retcon’ – it’s an amnesia pill. You were never supposed to see me, and you definitely weren’t supposed to remember me."

"Why do I still know you then?" Owen asked quietly, looking down at his hands.

He placed his hand over Owen’s, gripping it tightly for a second before loosening his grip but not releasing him. "I never gave you the pill. I had it all planned, give you the Jelly Babies and walk away to let you forget me. But then I saw how thin you were and couldn’t do it. We went to McDonalds and got you fattened up."

Owen laughed and shook his head, leaning back and looking at Jack expectantly. The other man sighed and leant back also before continuing his story, "Somehow I managed to keep the fact that you still remembered secret from my bosses; although I’m sure they had a feeling something was different about me. You should have seen me before I met you, completely irresponsible."

"You? Get out!" Owen scoffed with a sarcastic roll of his eyes.

"It’s true!" Jack insisted, completely oblivious to the sarcasm. "When I left there were Dalek’s attacking our Torchwood office in Glasgow." Owen opened his mouth but Jack answered his question before it had left his mouth. "A Dalek’s like… an overgrown pepper pot; only meaner. Anyway, I’ve got… history, as it were, with them so my boss thought it was a good idea for me to go to Scotland to help."

"And by ‘thought’ I mean that he ordered me to go, otherwise he’d Retcon  _me_. It took almost two years to fully defeat them, but we eventually managed it. Miraculously we managed to keep it out of the press as well… Still not sure how we managed to do that," he mused, biting his lower lip in thought.

"I started Torchwood Cardiff a long time ago, but when I was needed in London, I had to give leadership over to my second in command. He died eighteen months ago and I came back here to try get this place back in shape. You’d be surprised at how quickly things can go to pot when you’re not around."

"What’s the real reason why you don’t look any older?" Owen asked. "You know that I don’t believe the plastic surgery bullshit."

"Language!" Jack snapped automatically, making Owen roll his eyes once more. "It’s a long and very complicated story; I don’t even know everything myself. But something happened to me the first time I met the Dalek’s. I  _am_  ageing, just a hell of a lot slower than every one else. Which is why I look younger than I am."

"How old are you then?"

Jack smirked evilly. "Almost a hundred and eighty."

~

Owen was worried as he paced the small medical bay of the Hub. Jack had been in London for the past few weeks, helping with the battle at Canary Wharf against the Cybermen. He had barely slept since Jack had left; the issue of Jack’s safety keeping him awake and not allowing his brain to shut down.

Jack had called ahead, informing them that he was on his way and needed medical assistance pretty urgently. When the large cog door opened, it suddenly became clear why his assistance was needed.

The brunet was being held up by someone who Owen had never seen before. Both men were beaten, bruised and looked completely exhausted. Jack’s right arm was hanging limp at his side and his leg was sticking out an odd angle. Owen knew there and then that the shoulder and knee were dislocated.

"How the hell did you manage to get back here from London in this state?" Owen demanded, helping the stranger lie Jack down on the couch. He crouched down and checked Jack’s vitals, all of which seemed to be okay, thank goodness.

"He managed to get this working," the stranger said, his Welsh accent thick with tiredness. He held up Jack’s leather wrist strap. "I don’t know how he did it, but I think it burnt out when we arrived here."

Jack groaned in pain before sighing with relief when Owen injected him with morphine to allow him to align his joints. "Owen Harper, this is Ianto Jones. He worked in London for Torch…" his sentence trailed off and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he passed out.

He held his hand out to the Welshman. "Nice to meet you."

Ianto offered him a tired smile as he placed his own hand in Owen’s, gripping it for a moment before letting go.

Owen let his hand fall to the side for a second before he set about helping Jack, trying to ignore the tingling he felt in his palm at Ianto’s touch.


	6. Chapter 6

Through the large window he could see the stars and streetlights glistening in the water of Cardiff Bay. The streets outside were silent, it was after midnight and the area he lived in wasn’t big for clubbing, so there were no drunken people shouting loudly as they made their way down the street.

The warm body next to him shifted and he could hear a soft murmur, but the words were too faint to make out. Glancing at the long hair spread over his pillows, he knew something felt wrong. The person next to him wasn’t the one he wanted. Diane wanted him, she had made that blatantly obvious over the past few days but as Owen lay there, he couldn’t help frown as he wondered what was wrong with him.

His head felt like someone was tearing it in two and all he wanted was to close his eyes and block out the pain. But whenever he tried all he kept seeing were gorgeous blue eyes and dark hair, reminding him of how fucked he was.

It had been almost six months since Jack had arrived beaten and broken, escorted by Ianto Jones. Jack had soon been mended and everything was back to the way it had been before. Except Ianto hadn’t left. 

Torchwood London had been destroyed in the battle and the handful of survivors had either been Retconned or posted to the Torchwood Glasgow or Cardiff bases. The fact that Ianto was the only one to arrive in Cardiff was proof how many lives had been lost that day.

Ever since the first time his and Ianto’s hands had touched, Owen had dutifully been avoiding any kind of physical contact with the Welshman. The tingling sensation he had felt in his hand all day, lingered at the back of his mind, reminding him of how it felt to be touched by someone so good looking; someone so definitely  _male_.

Owen wasn’t stupid, he knew that Jack had no qualms about his own sexuality. The older man never seemed more at ease than when he was flirting; be it with a man, woman, plant or mineral. They had never discussed it together and Owen had never thought of Jack being with a man as a problem. It only became a problem when Owen started picturing  _himself_ with a man.

He rolled onto his side, sliding his hand around Diane’s waist, feeling her silky soft skin under his fingertips, trying desperately to ignore the fact that he was appreciating how soft and tanned she was and not focusing on her naked body pressing against his.

~

The plane was prepped, ready for take-off and Diane was climbing into the cockpit, wearing a determined look on her face. Owen knew he had one last chance to stop her leaving; he needed her to stay with him, help him get over the wrong things he was feeling for Ianto.

"Please…" he pleaded, leaning his hands against the door, stopping her from closing up the plane. "Don’t go… Stay… I… I love you," his voice broke a little and he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince that the words were true.

Diane offered him a sad smile and looped her white scarf around his neck. "No you don’t," she whispered, lighting running her fingers down his cheek. "It’s okay," he murmured, leaning over and pressing her lips against Owen.

Owen tried to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away, sliding her thumb over his cheekbone. "Please…" he begged, closing his eyes at the thought of losing her. "I need you."

"Go to him, Owen," she instructed. "He’s the one you need. Not me." Owen’s eyes flew open instantly and she smiled. "You talk in your sleep," she informed him, kissing him one more time before pushing him back a step to allow her to close the door.

Knowing he was defeated he took several steps back as she started the engine and prepared to set off. Her whispered words of love were almost inaudible over the roar of the engine and the blood rushing in his ears as the plane tore down the runway, into the sky and the Rift.

~

Jack trapped in 1941, was the only thing Owen could think at that moment. It was the only thing he was allowing himself to think. If he stopped and allowed his mind to wander, it would inevitably go to the memory of rolling around on the floor with Ianto. 

Admittedly, they had been fighting with each other at the time, but the memory of how Ianto had felt pressed against his back was doing things to him and Owen refused to think of him  _that_ way. 

He was wrong, he knew it and was going to find as many girls as he could and shag them all when this was over. Just to get  _those_ feelings out of his system.

"The Rift took Diane and my Captain," he spat, looking over his shoulder at Ianto. "If I die trying to bring either back, then at least I’ll die doing my duty."

The gun Ianto held in front of him was a surprise and his instincts kicked in, prompting him to taunt Ianto about not being anything other than a Tea-Boy. The bullet to his shoulder hurt like hell as he slotted the key into place, but not as much as the feeling of betrayal in his heart when he realised Ianto had shot him.

~

"I’m relieving you of your duty!" Jack snapped, stepping up and getting into Owen’s face. "The first thing you learned when you joined Torchwood was, don’t mess with the Rift. It’s too dangerous and unpredictable."

Owen stood up to his full height, not backing down or breaking eye contact with the older man. "Would you have rather I left you in 1941? How do we even know what will happen if the Rift opens? We’ve known you for a long time and you don’t even trust us with the truth about who you are.  _I’ve_ known you for nearly twenty years and you don’t even trust me. Why should I believe you now?"

Jack’s anger had boiled down from pure rage into calm, mild mannered irritation. "Leave your weapon and get out," he ordered, taking a step back and folding his arms across his chest.

Owen sighed and glanced around at the rest of the team, purposely overlooking Ianto’s concerned face. "Fine," he whispered, pulling the gun from his belt and placing it on a nearby table. "If that’s the way you want to be… Jack."

The other man’s eyes flickered briefly at the sound of his name instead of the word he had been called by Owen for so long, before the hardened gaze reappeared.

"I guess this is goodbye," he added, looking around again. This time he purposely held Ianto’s expression, choosing not to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realised he could very easily fall into those blue pools. 

He knew he wouldn’t remember Tosh, Ianto, Gwen or even Jack pretty soon. He would be Retconned like he should have been twenty years ago. There was no point in denying his feelings now, even if they were horrible and wrong.

"I would say thanks for the memories, but…" He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, not bothering to finish his sentence. They all knew what would happen to him.

He didn’t even look back as he made his way down the stairs and through the large cog door.

~

The shot stung the back of his throat as he tossed the clear liquid back, but he didn’t care, he just ordered himself another one. The life he had known since he was a kid would come to an end in less than twenty-four hours so he figured he had every right to get as hammered as humanly possible: Even if he killed himself in the process.

"Owen," a scared and very familiar voice whispered from behind him.

His breath caught in his throat as he turned and saw Diane standing behind him, wearing the flight outfit she had been wearing the last time he had seen her. "Diane," he choked, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"I’m so lost, Owen. I don’t know where I am." The terror in Diane’s voice was heartbreaking to hear and Owen almost blocked his ears so he wouldn’t have to listen to the pain. "Open the Rift. It’s the only way to save me. Please… I’ll die if you don’t. Open the Rift and you’ll be all right again. The feelings that you have will be gone and we can be together. Please Owen…" 

Her voice trailed off as she disappeared into thin air. No one around him made any indication that they had seen her, and he shook his head, wondering if he had drank so much alcohol that he was beginning to hallucinate.

Then her words sank in,  _‘The feelings you have will be gone’_ , and he knew what he had to do. He had to return to Torchwood and open that Rift once and for all.

~

Rhys was dead, Gwen was hysterical and it was all Jack’s fault, Owen’s brain told him as he stepped out of the autopsy bay. He had arrived back at the Hub in time to see Gwen attack Jack, ordering for him to make things better again. That opening the Rift would fix everything.

Everyone knew what they had to do, everyone except Jack apparently. He heard Jack tell someone to make sure Owen was stopped and his heart leapt when he heard Ianto’s voice tell him that he was going to help.

Gwen punching Jack, knocking him to the ground shocked everyone, most of all Jack and herself. Tosh had already hacked into the main override system and was ready to enter the codes when Jack looked up and found himself staring down the barrel of his own gun.

Owen had no real intention in shooting his father, he was only holding him back whilst the rest of the team did what they had to in order to open the Rift. "We’re relieving you of your command, Captain. We’re opening the Rift and taking back what we lost!"

Jack made a comment which under normal circumstances would have been extremely funny, just because of how bitchy it was, but given their present situation it only served to push Owen over the edge and he had pulled the trigger on Jack’s Webley before he even realised it.

~

His head hurt, his throat was sore from shouting and his eyes were stinging from crying so much. When Jack told him the truth about Torchwood, the older man had neglected to mention that while he aged slower than most people did, he also couldn’t die like most people. Not even by a bullet to the brain, as he had proven when he grabbed Gwen’s ankle after Owen had shot him.

Only going up against Abaddon seemed to have been too much for even Captain Jack Harkness’ immortality. Two days and twelve hours after defeating the god and closing the Rift, Jack was still lying on a cold slab in the morgue with Gwen who refused to leave his side. Even though the Captain was showing no sign of waking up and the others were beginning to lose hope.

Ianto sat down on the old couch next to Owen and handed him a beer. The doctor was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t realise who was giving him the beverage until their fingers brushed and sparks flew through his finger tips and up his arm.

He couldn’t keep in the small gasp of surprise that accompanied the feeling. Their skin hadn’t touched for so long that it felt like a thousand bolts of electricity had just been passed through his body, just from that single touch.

"Are you okay?" Ianto whispered, taking a drink of his own beer and leaning back with a sigh.

Owen let out a dry humour-less laugh. "Am I okay?" He rolled his eyes. "I shot Jack, he came back to life and now he’s dead again. Of course, I’m okay. Just another day in the life of a Torchwood employee."

Ianto placed his hand on Owen’s shoulder, squeezing it in what was supposed to be a friendly and comforting gesture. But the only thing he managed to do was spread fire from Owen’s shoulder, down his chest to his groin.

Owen coughed nervously and shifted, trying to will himself to think un-sexy thoughts and ignore how much he liked Ianto touching him.

He turned his head and brown eyes met concerned blue ones. How long they looked at each other, neither of them knew but suddenly Owen found Ianto’s face closer than it had been previously and he felt a wonderfully soft pair of lips on his own.

Inside him, his stomach and other parts of his lower anatomy were rejoicing at how delicious Ianto tasted: while his mind was crying with relief as he realised if kissing Ianto felt this  _good,_ why had he assumed feeling something for another man was a bad thing?

When they broke apart for air, Ianto’s cheeks were flushed and his lips looked deliciously swollen and Owen couldn’t resist running his tongue over Ianto’s lower lip.

At that moment they heard Tosh running across the Hub and both watched in disbelief as she threw her arms around a drained but still alive Jack.

Jack’s blue eyes moved across the Hub and spotted Owen sat with Ianto. It took all of three seconds for Owen to release Ianto and run over to where his father was standing, leaning against the wall. 

Once he was stood in front of Jack Owen hesitated. He wasn’t sure how he would received after he had killed the other man, even if it had been an accident and he was sorry he did it.

"I forgive you," Jack whispered, not loud enough for anyone but Owen to hear him.

That was all Owen needed to burst into tears and fall against Jack’s body, opening sobbing against his chest, not caring who saw him or what they thought.

~

Leaning back in his chair Jack sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It had been a long day… Hell, it had been a long year. 

Rubbing his wrists subconsciously, he felt memories of the Master surface in his mind. He hadn’t been free for long and he could feel the cold metal of his chains against his skin. It had taken him five showers before he managed to clean himself properly, but he still felt dirty. He still smell the stench of oil and sweat on his skin and he wondered how long it would be before those memories faded into the back of his mind, with all the others he remembered about things he never should have seen.

His office had been rearranged while he had been away. He could no longer look out of his door at the rest of his team working in the Hub and he didn’t like how isolated that made him feel.

Pressing several keys on the keyboard, he brought up the CCTV for the main work area and sat back, doing nothing but watching his staff go about their jobs.

Owen was sitting at his desk frowning over some kind of puzzle in front of him. Tosh’s glasses were balance precariously on the end of her nose as she analysed the paper’s Gwen had just handed her. Ianto was moving amongst them, carefully handing a pink cup to Gwen and placing a light-green cup next to Tosh’s computer screen. 

Ianto stopped when he reached Owen’s desk and held out a black and green cup to the doctor. It was Owen’s favourite cup and had some kind of outlandish writing on, but the Captain couldn’t remember what it said. 

Jack leant forward as he saw their fingers brush and eyes meet. The small smile Ianto offered Owen was enough to tell the older man that something had happened between the two of them whilst he had been gone. As if there was any doubt about the way they felt for each other, the hand Ianto placed on Owen’s shoulder helped prove the theory. Along with the teasing brush of fingertips just above Owen’s shirt collar.

His coffee was always the last to be delivered and Jack was grateful it was always a little colder than everyone else’s: He had never been able to drink the beverage when it was steaming hot. 

He smiled at Ianto in thanks and blew slowly on the liquid before testing the temperature by taking a small sip. He waited until Ianto was near the door before asking, "How long have you and Owen been together?"

Ianto stopped and turned on his heel to face Jack. "I think that’s a question you should be asking Owen, Sir."

Jack nodded his head in agreement, making a mental note to corner Owen as soon as possible. He grinned widely before a serious look came over his face.

"Ianto?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"I don’t know how serious this thing with you and Owen is, but don’t let him hurt you. He can be a bastard if he wants to be."

Ianto let out a somewhat nervous chuckle and slid his hands behind his back. "I’ll try to remember that, Sir."

Jack nodded his head and when Ianto was halfway out of the office he added, "Oh and if you hurt my son, I’ll kill you."


End file.
